Fire
by mysongsknowwhatudidinthelight
Summary: A reflection of Jim and Spock, and their last night on the Enterprise before their five-year mission came to an end. Pretty much just fluff inspired by Bastille's "Laura Palmer." T'hy'la and cuddling.


Jim and Spock were similar in many ways. They both were fire, the flames burning in their hearts and souls. They did not stop at the word "no" and, under no circumstances, would either man's death be acceptable. It seemed that their only differences were in appearance and species.

But that assumption, as Kirk would put it, is "dead wrong." They were so different that it's shocking the two were able to work together, much less fall in love. In the beginning, there was a pool going around the ship with everyone's bet on how long they'd last. (Bones won- only he had the faith in Jim to not screw this one up.)

Both were fire, yes. But Spock was the candle you light to guide you way through a dark and unfamiliar path. He was the torch you use to explore an old cave. Trustworthy, reliable, comfortingly constant- and so Spock was. His logic made him predictable, and no one ever thought to doubt him. Except Jim, who was a bomb. Jim was an explosion, throwing fiery parts of himself everywhere and making the surrounding area brighter than seemed possible. No one knew when he would go off, but the ship could rely on him when he was needed.

The word "no" did not fit into Spock's massive vocabulary because he had to overcome it on a daily basis as a child. "No being with human blood could ever be accepted into the Vulcan Science Academy," "No one will ever love you, because you do not belong anywhere." He had to prove them wrong, again and again until it was an unfortunate habit. As the first officer, he can't remember the last time someone said that word to him, and he is certain that Jim has never told him "no."

Kirk, on the other hand, simply didn't _believe_ in "no." He'd defied the impossible, excelled from day one without even a pause. If there was a "no" in the way of him and his final goal, he would find three ways around it and one over it. Jim wanted to make sure he was invincible. Boundaries and "no"s made exceptions for the man who defied everything. He never had to worry about getting stopped- if he was, he would find a way to go again.

So you see, "no" was removed from Spock's vocabulary because he had to worry about it, but from Kirk's because he _didn't_ have to.

The one thing that the pair irrefutably needed in the same way, without any different dynamics or points of view, was each other. Many famous Star Fleet captains have likened the absence of their first officer to losing a sense or a limb, but for Kirk it ran much deeper. He would be missing part of himself. He'd be half-empty, unable to function at the capacity he was used to. Likewise, Spock would lose the control so carefully constructed in his years of studying for Kolinahr. He would be the human side of himself, unable to control or restrain his emotional responses to even the slightest problem. His instability would make it dangerous for any enemies of him or Jim, and that inner beast had been glimpsed at after Jim's death. He personally never wanted a reason for it to emerge ever again.

* * *

Spock remembers distinctly their last night on the Enterprise before their five-year mission ended. Jim sneaked into his room, a finger to his lips (fondly, Spock recalls the small marks on the curve of Jim's bottom lip from the biting he'd do when he was nervous) as he led Spock out of his room. They walked to the observation lounge that looked out into the endless darkness, stars and planets looming far away until they were thousands of times smaller.

It had been almost an hour of soft conversation, and now a comfortable silence settled on them like the blanket they were lying on. Several minutes had passed before Spock turned to look at Jim, a contented smile adorning the Vulcan's features perfectly. Even after all this time, Kirk still marveled at the stars like it was the first time he'd been among them. Reaching out, Spock connected the hands between them with only their first two fingers. He could feel the happiness floating through Jim's mind and revelled in the feeling. Jim tore his gaze from the sky, bringing it to Spock's warm eyes.

"You complete me," Spock said simply. Even as the words escaped his mouth, he realized how true they really were.

Jim just smiled, a little lift at one corner of his mouth. "Spock, isn't that too illogical for you?" he asked, his voice soft.

Spock rolled on his side to face Jim, pressing his body gently into Kirk's side. Jim lifted his arm, placing it around Spock's shoulders before kissing his forehead. The Vulcan looked up at Jim, his smile growing larger.

"Not this time, t'hy'la," he sighed. "Not this time."

And they spent their last night in the stars together, falling even further in love.


End file.
